


Stretched Hats

by Mntsnflrs



Series: Clothes and Company [5]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Humor, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Minor Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Seo Youngho | Johnny, Minor Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Minor Kim Jungwoo/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Minor Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Minor Violence, donghyuck being... he, lots of stupidity, teenage boys being stupid as hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 07:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19079911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mntsnflrs/pseuds/Mntsnflrs
Summary: “How goes the seduction?”“Ball is life, sadly.”“Damn, you were rejected for a basketball again?”“Yeah.”Renjun looks at him slyly. “It seems you have a type, and that type prefers sports over you.”-Fifth in the series but can be read as a stand alone!





	Stretched Hats

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick warning! This work has the heaviest homophobic themes in the series, so if reading slurs or minor violence upsets you, please don't read! 
> 
> Other than that, I hope everyone enjoys xo

Mark has a fat head.

Like, it’s a _cute_ head! But, objectively speaking, Donghyuck has to acknowledge that it’s a fat head.

Especially when Mark returns a hat he borrowed and it’s all stretched and won’t sit properly on Donghyuck’s own, average sized head.

He looks down at the baseball cap, mourning the loss. It’s a deep, forest green, and it looks great with his orange hair. Or, it did. Now it won’t fit because of Mark’s stupid cute fat head.

Jaemin knocks on his bedroom door, distracting him from the grief. “Hyuckie, you nearly ready to go?”

His voice comes out thin and whinier than ever. “Mark stretched my best hat with his huge head.”

Jaemin pushes the door in to peer at him, pouting in sympathy. “That was a great hat. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you gonna donate it?”

He snorts and throws the cap onto his dresser, standing to brush off his jeans and search for his sneakers. “No, I’ll just give it back to Mark. It fits his head now, which is honestly such a rarity that I’d feel guilty if I took it from him.”

“If you throw it at him maybe it will start to orbit. You know, since it’s a big enough head to warrant its own center of gravity.”

He kisses Jaemin’s cheek. “You’re the only one that’s ever understood me.”

Walking back into the dorm’s shared space, he’s greeted with Jeno’s unimpressed face. Donghyuck kisses his cheek too, making it extra wet. “Sorry but you’ve got no game, you don’t understand me at all.”

“You think that’s what I cared about?”

Donghyuck feigns innocence. “You mean you don’t like me kissing the cheek of your best friend? Seems a little unreasonable, doesn’t it?”

Jeno’s scowl deepens until Jaemin shoves Donghyuck onto the floor. “Stop teasing him for being slow, Hyuckie. He gets enough of that from me.”

Donghyuck grumbles as he climbs off the floor. “You could have bruised my peachy skin, Jaemin.”

“Kiss my peachy ass, Donghyuck,” Jeno says sweetly.

“I mean, if you really want me to.”

“I take it back.”

“Has Jaemin?” he can’t help but goad. “How was it? He used to brag about his prowess in the dead of night during sleepovers, you know, but as soon as you’d come up in conversation he’d turn back into a bumbling baby, like he didn’t know what sex was when it came to you. Has he proven himself, or is it always like the first time? Is he gentle? Does he even know what to do to get your-“

Jaemin smacks him on the back of the head hard enough to send his brain rattling. “That’s enough, thank you. We have very mutual, very private orgasms that don’t need to be discussed.”

From the corner of the room, Renjun looks up from his phone and says, “Can we please go to the club so that I can lose you guys in the crowd already. I can feel my hair thinning.”

“Where’s fat head?” Donghyuck asks.

“Mark is meeting us at the club,” Jaemin says, stepping into his boots. He always looks so hot and sophisticated, it isn’t fair. Donghyck looks too cuddly to be sophisticated, and he’s very aware of the failure. “He’s out with his basketball friends so he’s gonna join us later.”

“Basketball friends?” Donghyck asks, immediately perking up.

Jaemin levels a warning glare at him. “Don’t fuck with Mark’s friends, Hyuckie. Don’t do it.”

 

-

 

The thing is, asking him not to fuck with Mark’s friends is basically setting him a challenge to see just how much shit he can cause in one evening, and Donghyuck has never been good at backing down from a challenge.

 

-

 

“So you’re gonna go professional, huh?” he asks Kwangjo, pressing a little closer, looking up through the ends of his messy hair. “You look like the type to go into professional athletics.”

Kwangjo is tall, well muscled, and definitely not as straight he seems to think he is. Donghyck has barely had to flirt to get him alone, into a secluded corner of the club, just them and their drinks and the distant press of bodies creating a moving shield from the world. Kwangjo laughs, not nervous at all, actually pressing closer. “Yeah, coach says I could be a point guard for a national team if I put some more work in.”

“Wouldn’t any coach say that to their players?” Donghyuck teases.

Kwangjo immediately frowns. “No dude, he genuinely means it with me. He says I’m something special.”

Donghyuck presses his lips together and tries not to laugh. “Oh, I agree. You’re definitely special.”

“Yeah, I am. You wanna go somewhere else? I can show you my passes.”

“What?”

“There’s a basketball court nearby, we could go and do some shooting, right?”

“You... you want me to leave the club with you to go play basketball?”

“I could get some of the other guys; we could set up a game!”

“It’s like. Midnight. I don’t wanna play basketball.”

“Nah, come on dude! You questioned my ability; you should come watch me play!”

Donghyuck takes a large mouthful of his drink. “So far I’ve been demoted from playing against you, to being on a team with you; to just watching you play from the sidelines. Sounds like you don’t much care if I’m there, as long as you get to play.”

“I just fucking love basketball,” Kwangjo says with the same unbridled passion of Jaemin talking about Jeno’s smile.

Ball-sexual. Alright. Donghyuck nods. “I’m gonna go get another drink.”

“But you haven’t finished your own.”

He downs it and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Woops. Guess I’m fresh out. See you around, Kwangjo. Good luck with your next game, I hope you get scouted soon.”

“Thanks!”

He pushes through the crowd to reach the bar, but just asks for a water and then heads outside into the smoking area, sitting with a sign on one of the benches and dropping the cutesy act entirely. It gets tiring being so fucking amazing, and sometimes when there’s no payoff, he wonders why he bothers.

After a couple of minutes Renjun plops down beside him and stretches out his own legs, his sandy hair mused. “Hey.”

“Hey. Did you lose your photography friends?”

“Nah, they’re really annoying sometimes. They kept trying to take polaroids of me and I just wanted to dance.” He rolls his shoulders, then steals some of Donghyuck’s water. “How goes the seduction?”

“Ball is life, sadly.”

“Damn, you were rejected for a basketball again?”

“Yeah.”

Renjun looks at him slyly. “It seems you have a type, and that type prefers sports over you.”

“Asshole.”

“It’s not my fault you fall for idiots.”

“It’s not my fault either!”

He doesn’t even fall for idiots! He’s fallen for one idiot, full stop, no plural.

“He’s at the bar, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“He’s at the bar. Asked me where you were, I said I didn’t know, and then I came out here and found you.”

“He’s looking for me?”

“Probably. He knows the kind of trouble you cause.”

Donghyuck pushes the glass of water into Renjun’s hand and stands, running his hands through his hair to mess it up before smacking his cheeks and biting down on his lips. “Do I look red, slightly tussled, and adorable?”

“You look as desperate as always.”

“But adorable.”

Renjun’s lip curls. “I guess.”

Well, that’s all the validation from Renjun he’s gonna get, so he kisses him on the forehead and darts back inside, wading through the crowd to reach the bar once more, thrumming with excitement for the first time in the night.

He sees Jaemin first.

It’s hard not to, when he’s so happy that he shines brighter than the ugly neon spotlights, glowing in the face with a huge grin that could outshine the sun. Jeno is under his arm, smiling softer, but no less happy. It sends a pang through Donghyuck’s chest, because he’s so happy for them it hurts, but it also just hurts because he’s envious. He wants that. He wants to feel the pride with which Jaemin shows Jeno off to everyone he meets, instead of the hole in his chest that feels like it grows a little more each night.

Jaemin sees him through the crowds and waves. “Hyuckie, come here!”

He pushes some guys out of the way with his pointy shoulders and throws himself directly into Jaemin’s laughing chest, snuggling into the arms that come around to hold him tightly. “Hi guys.”

“You okay?” Jeno asks curiously.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Donghyuck!”

He turns to see Kwangjo waving. “Oh, hi again.”

Jaemin’s chest vibrates with laughter. He presses a kiss to Donghyuck’s head and whispers, “Don’t tell me you tried with Kwangjo, honey. _Please_. He sleeps with his jersey and nothing else because the only thing that brings him comfort is dreams of winning nationals.”

“Maybe I find that sexy.”

“You find people giving you attention sexy, so I doubt it.” Jaemin kisses his head again and Donghyuck steps back only for Jeno to push a glass of water into his hand.

“You look like you need this.”

“I’m not even drunk.”

“You look dehydrated.”

He sticks his tongue out but takes a sip anyway. “Thanks. Where’s Mark?”

“Somewhere on the dancefloor looking for you, I think.”

He pushes the water back into Jeno’s hand. “Here.”

“Don’t go after him, just wait here!” Jeno calls, but Donghyuck is already darting through the crowd, looking for Mark’s big head in the sea of faces. It seems like every night out is like this. Every day, too. He just lives his entire life from one moment with Mark to the next, and every moment in between is searching, hopelessly.

A huge hand grabs him in the crowd, and Donghyuck is already scowling before Yukhei pulls him into a hug that lifts his feet from the floor, swinging him around. “Hyuckie!”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Hyuckie!” Jungwoo says.

Donghyuck wriggles until he’s out of Yukhei’s hold and then he’s clinging to Jungwoo, and they’re both spinning. “Jungwoo I’ve missed you!”

“I’ve missed you too!” Jungwoo cups his face and smiles in that darling way he has, the expression that’s so gentle it can make complete strangers stop and ask themselves who the hell that is, looking like an angel gracing the earth with their impossible beauty.

“You’re too good for Yukhei,” he says without thinking. “Seriously, what the hell?”

Jungwoo just laughs and squeezes him tighter. “I’m just right for Yukhei, thank you, and he’s just right for me.”

“You’re too good for him.”

Yukhei rolls his eyes. “You didn’t have him crying over you last night because a cat died in a film. Like, it wasn’t even a genuinely dead cat; it was just good at acting. It probably got paid so much for that role, and all it had to do was lie there. I wish I got paid for lying around.”

“You do,” Donghyuck says, scowl deepening. “You never do your job; you just sit there and watch stupid videos on your phone.”

“You do the same!”

“Yeah, once I’ve actually done the job.” He clings tighter to Jungwoo. “Have you seen Mark?”

Jungwoo strokes a loving hand through his hair. “He was here a couple of minutes ago, but I’m not sure where he went. Sorry, sweetheart.”

Donghyuck sighs. “It’s fine, thanks anyway. I’m gonna go back outside and sit down for a while.”

“Do you want company?” Yukhei asks, eyes wide, face open. Donghyuck hates that, when Yukhei is so stupidly nice to him even when he’s nothing but mean.

“No thank you,” he mumbles, pulling away. “But I appreciate the offer.” He looks at them both, at how as soon as he backs off a little they just gravitate back to each other, until Jungwoo has his arms wrapped around Yukhei’s waist and his chin propped on his shoulder. The alcohol in his stomach sours, becomes one bubbling mass of cramps. “Have a good night, guys.”

Jungwoo waves him off, and Donghyuck pushes blindly back through the crowd until he’s outside again, alone this time without Renjun. He sits back down on the bench in the corner, rejects a cigarette from a stranger, and sits with his head in his hands for a minute, trying to catch his breath past the lump in his throat and the yawning hole in his chest.

The longer it goes on, the less fun it is.

The less fun it is, the angrier he gets, the sadder he feels, the lonelier it becomes to live his life surrounded by happy people.

“Dude, you sure you don’t want a cigarette?”

“I’m fine thanks,” he mumbles, not looking up.

“I have weed too, if you’d prefer.”

“He said he’s fine.”

Donghyuck looks up at that, because he knows that voice, those eyes, that big head. “Hi,” he says dumbly.

Mark sits down next to him, eyeing him with concern. “Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I’ve been looking for you too,” he replies, watching Mark watch him.

“Are you okay?”

“I wanna go home now,” he says quietly. “I’m not having fun anymore.”

“You want me to come with you?” Mark asks.

And Donghyuck knows what a good friend would say, what he would say if it were Jeno, Jaemin, or Renjun offering. He should say _No, you stay here and have fun! Don’t worry about me; I’ll let you know when I’m back safely! Have a great night!_

He knows what he should say, but what he does say is, “Please. Take me home, Mark.”

 

-

 

Mark says goodbye to his friends one after the other, and Donghyuck clings onto his hand the entire time, just waiting for the fresh air, ignoring the knowing look Jaemin gives him as they leave, ignoring everything other than Mark’s hand. He focuses on the feel of the calluses, the blunt nails, the slim fingers.

He focuses on holding onto Mark’s hand until they’re out of the club entirely, and Mark is nudging him, poking him in the arm. “Do you wanna get a taxi or walk?”

“Walk,” he mumbles, still playing with Mark’s fingers. “Can we walk?”

Mark sighs. “Sure. Can I have my hand back?”

“No.”

He sighs again. “Fine. Come on, let’s go.”

So they walk back, and it takes over forty minutes because it’s a fucking long distance, but they hold hands the entire time, and it’s the happiest Donghyuck has been all evening.

“Are you gonna stay over?” he asks as they approach his dorm.

Mark shifts his feet, waiting for Donghyuck to pull out his keys. “I shouldn’t, I have practice tomorrow.”

“Stay.”

“Alright, fine.”

It isn’t what he wants, to be squashed in his tiny bed, back to back with Mark. They’re both too skinny and their spines press together weirdly, and Mark curls up so round that Donghyuck ends up crushed against the wall. It isn’t what he wants, but it’s the closest he can get.

The warmth of Mark’s back is better than the cold, empty sheets of sleeping alone.

“You know I love you, right?” he asks into the quiet of the night.

It takes Mark a while to answer.

“I know.”

Because fairy tales don’t always turn out to have the perfect ending, but this is fine. This is better than sleeping alone. This is better than nothing. 

 

-

 

He doesn’t remember meeting Mark, but he remembers hating him.

Mark had been a weirder kid than he is teenager, with tiny teeth and the same big head he’s always had, and an ego that had been genuinely obnoxious to Dongyuck for the first few months they’d been shoved together and told to play nicely.

He’d made it his mission to make life especially hard for Mark, and that resolve had hardened when everyone else seemed happy to let Mark lead their team – he’d chose where they played, what they played, what role everyone had – and why? Why did he get to tell Jisung where to stand when they made up stupid dances together, why did he get to tell Jaemin to mark Jeno knowing it would distract them both and let his own team win whenever they played football?

So Donghyuck decided to hate him. he ignored Jaemin’s glares and warning words, and he spoke over Mark every time he talked, ignored his instructions, kicked mud into his face when they wrestled, deliberately tripped him during dances – and for a while it worked. For a while it looked like Mark was going to hate him too.

Until one day he burst into tears and ran home crying, and Donghyuck had the first realisation of his short life, that he was indeed being an asshole.

He went home and told his parents what he’d done, head down, and listened to their lectures. His dad took him to the nearest sports store and he used his birthday money to buy Mark a brand new basketball, and then he was driven to the house to stand on the doorstep and apologise formally, the gift between his small hands.

Mark had stood behind his mother the whole time, eyes red and mouth wobbly until Donghyuck held out the basketball.

“I’m sorry for being so horrible,” he said. “Dad says I’m insecure. I don’t know what that means, but I’m sorry that I upset you.”

“It’s okay,” Mark had said after he sniffed loudly. “Thanks for the basketball. Wanna go play with it?”

Dnoghyuck had nodded, and they’d gone and played together, alone for the first time ever, without everyone else. And it had been fun. Alone, Mark hadn’t taken charge of anyone, he hadn’t bossed Donghyuck around or made him do anything, they’d just passed the ball and practiced shooting, and Mark had helped ever so gently to position Donghyuck’s arm correctly so that he’d righten his aim. They’d stayed out past dark, both going home sheepish to be shouted at by their parents, only to do the same thing the next night, and the night after that, and after that.

It turned out to be much easier to like Mark than it was to hate him. It was even easier to love him than it was to like him, despite how much it hurt when Donghyuck realised his feelings would never be returned, when he was fifteen years old and saw Mark receive his first kiss from a girl in their class, knowing they’d never want the same thing.

 

-

 

“You’re quiet today,” Yuta says, interrupting Donghyuck’s drag transformation playlist.

He pauses youtube. “I was out late last night. Sorry.”

Yuta shrugs. “Hell, this isn’t my business, go fucking wild. I’m not gonna report anything, and neither is Jaehyun.”

“That’s because you’re the best bosses ever.”

“That’s right. Doyoung has nothing on us.”

Donghyuck pouts his lips and pretends to think. “But... wait, doesn’t he give his employees free cakes and stuff?”

Yuta laughs, showing his perfect teeth. “If you want me to try baking you something, I’ll do it, as long as you sign a waiver beforehand that promises you won’t sue me for whatever happens to you.”

“Maybe test them on Yukhei first.”

Yuta nods. “Good idea.”

Jaehyun sticks his head through the office door, scowling. “Did you say something about Doyoung?”

“I said you’re a better boss,” Donghyuck says. “But I take it back, you’ve never made me brownies, and Jungwoo brings them for us for free all the time. You’re an awful boss.”

Jaehyun’s brow smoothes out again. “Oh, that’s fine. As long as you aren’t saying anything bad about him.”

Yuta snorts. “You’re so fucking whipped.”

“You’re saying you’d accept someone insulting Sicheng?”

“I’d throw them through a window,” Yuta says without blinking. “Doesn’t mean you aren’t whipped.”

“Can you go flaunt your romance somewhere else?” Donghyuck complains loudly. “I have paychecks to analyse, or something. I don’t actually know what I’m meant to be doing today. Anyway, go away; go teach a spin class or something.”

“I’m on my break,” Jaehyun says smugly.

“So go to the bookstore across the road and go make eyes at your one true love.”

Jaehyun salutes him. “As you say, boss. I’ll send Jungwoo your love.”

“Good.”

Once he leaves, Yuta peers down at him again, running a hand through his floppy hair. “Seriously, you look rough. Anything we can do?”

“No,” Donghyuck says, clicking back onto youtube. “But thanks. Just life, you know? I’m a teenager, I’ll get over it.”

Yuta frowns, but he doesn’t argue. “Let me know if you need anything. Yukhei is on the front desk if you want someone to annoy.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Weirdly, it kind of makes him feel better. He goes downstairs to annoy Yukhei.

 

-

 

The following night he ends up squashed on Chenle’s couch, wedged between Jaemin and Jisung as Renjun and Jeno act out in desperation something to do with flapping.

“Four words,” Jaemin repeats for the third time, slower still. “Flappy... flappy bird? Flappy flappy flappy bird?”

Jeno looks to the ceiling as if it holds the answer to their stupidity, which, sadly, it doesn’t.

Renjun puts his hands together and mimes driving a car.

“Cars? Cars film franchise?” Donghyuck asks, leaning forward. “Flying cars? Spaceships? Star Wars? Star Trek? Firefly? Am I close?”

Renjun looks ready to launch himself at them when Mark wanders in from the kitchen, takes one glance at Renjun’s imaginary wheel and Jeno’s flapping arms and says, “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.”

“Finally!” Renjun shouts. “Fucking finally!”

“My dad will tell you off again if you keep swearing,” Chenle says, following Mark back into the room with snacks. “He says to me, Chenle, remind Renjun that he’s never too old for a time out on the naughty step.”

Renjun goes pink, as his expression sours further. “If there was one brain cell on that couch between those three idiots I wouldn’t have to swear.”

Jisung says, “Hey, I’m smart!”

“Then quit hogging the brain cell and share it,” Jaemin says, leaning over Donghyuck to ruffle Jisung’s hair.

Donghyuck catches Mark’s hand as he passes the couch, tugging. “That was very reminiscent of when we were kids and you’d get everything right.”

Mark smiles and flicks his head. “Why, has it made you angry? You gonna throw something at me and stomp your feet like you used to?”

“Not unless you give me a reason to.”

“I would never,” he says with an innocent flutter of his lashes.

“Oh!” Donghyuck exclaims, reminded by the false innocence that he’d brought his hat. He leans down and digs it out of his bag while Jeno and Renjun argue, passing it to Mark. “Your fat head ruined my hat, so you might as well keep it.”

“Thanks,” Mark says, taking the hat and shoving it into his back pocket. “That was my plan all along.”

“You’re not smart enough for that.”

“My charade skills beg to differ.”

“Shut up.”

“Go away.”

Donghyuck stands and walks around the couch while Mark backs away, hands up, giggling.

“Go away?” Donghyuck asks. “You want me to go away, huh?”

“Don’t,” Mark begs, already all too aware he’s about to be tickled to within an inch of his life. “Please have mercy, I have a basketball match tomorrow and if you pinch me too hard the team will think I’m covered in hickeys.”

“So as long as I don’t leave any marks it’s fine, huh?” He doesn’t wait for a reply, tackling Mark and laughing as they both hit the floor with a thud, already digging his fingers into ribs and knees and whatever soft spot he can find as Mark yells out, breathless.

Behind Mark’s screaming, Donghyuck can still hear Jeno and Renjun arguing. He can hear Jaemin talking to Jisung and Chenle, voice warm, the two youngest boys chirping along. Mark looks up at Donghyuck, eyes squinting closed from the force of his smiling, all his teeth bared as he fights like his life depends on it, but it doesn’t matter. He’s strong, stronger than Donghyuck probably, considering his sports routine, but Donghyuck always wins fights like this.

He always knows just where to aim.

 

-

 

Helping Jeno through his sexuality crisis had been draining for a number of reasons.

The main one had been the sheer idiocy of it all – the fact that Donghyuck had grown up loving Mark while Jaemin had loved Jeno, only for Jeno to turn around and admit that he doesn’t know how he feels, that he doesn’t know how Jaemin feels – it was like a smack, or a bullet.

They’d loved each other from the beginning, and it had been so painfully obvious to everyone other than themselves, and it’s _hard._

It’s hard watching his fairy tales play out for his friends.

It’s hard to see Jaemin, his ally in miserable longing, finally find the happiness he deserves.

Donghyuck wouldn’t change it for the world, would kill anyone that tried to dim their shine, but god, the pain in his chest seems to yawn wider with each sunrise and sunset.

Chenle, Jisung, and Renjun fall asleep on the couch while Jeno sleeps splayed on top of Jaemin in the arm chair, head tucked in his shoulder.

Mark is fiddling with his phone.

“What’re you doing?” Donghyuck asks.

Mark looks up guiltily. “Oh – uh, nothing. Just texting some girl.”

“Oh,” Donghyuck says, nodding like the knife already embedded in his chest hasn’t just inched closer to his heart. “Is she nice?”

Mark laughs a little. “Yeah, she’s nice. She’s gonna come to my game tomorrow.”

 _I go to all of your games._ “I can’t make it tomorrow, did I tell you? I’m sorry; I have an assignment due in the afternoon I’ve barely started.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’ll let you know if we win.”

“Are you gonna date her?” he asks suddenly, voice much too raw to be casual.

Mark presses his lips together. “I don’t know. I don’t know yet.”

“Sorry,” Donghyuck whispers. “Sorry for asking, you don’t – I shouldn’t have. I hope you have a good time together.”

“Thanks,” Mark replies quietly. “Thank you.”

 

-

 

He doesn’t know when Mark found out.

Maybe he’s always known.

It definitely feels like it’s always been like this.

 

-

 

There’s a specific pain that being gay brings you when you’re growing up, loneliness on top of loneliness that comes at you with pointed edges that nudge at exposed limbs while you try to sleep, keeping you awake and prickling with heat and cold.

Love seems so finite anyway, so short in supply, but all of it goes towards the girls that like boys and the boys that like girls. There's no room for anyone that's _other._

As a child, while love is still a superficial thing based on what movies you enjoy and what Pokémon you’d chose to have if they were real, love seems to overflow, and yet it still isn’t for you, because everyone else is already paired off and jumping rope together, holding grubby hands, sneaking snacks into each other’s pockets, and you wonder as a child, _when will I get to hold someone’s hand? When will someone smile at me like that, with pink cheeks and curious eyes?_

Then adolescence makes it worse, because nothing is innocent anymore, and you learn to hate yourself for your differences, because most people already hate you, so why shouldn’t you hate yourself too?

The thoughts pray on your quiet moments.

Are you predatory for looking at the boy you sit next to in chemistry? Would he spit at you if he found out?

Will you ever get passed a note that says, _check yes if you like me back?_

Will anyone ever ask you with burning cheeks and downturned eyes if you’re interested in going for a meal, to the movies, out for a walk? Will you ever get kissed? Will you ever have someone want you in the same way you long for someone, _anyone,_ to love you like you feel like you need?

The world grows up with love in a different way to you, because you’re gay, and as much as you age, learn that it’s fine, it’s good, it’s _amazing_ to be different, as much as you force yourself to understand that you’re not wrong... you’re still alone in comparison to the wider world of boys loving girls and girls loving boys, and men loving women and women loving men.

You still look at the boy you’ve loved for almost half of your life, and you wonder, _would things be better for you if I left and didn’t come back?_

 

-

 

College parties turn out to be almost exactly the same as highschool parties; the kids are bigger, sometimes the alcohol is legal, but everyone is still the same. Crowds of beautiful girls giggling in corners, dudes smelling like pot in the kitchen, a crowd grinding in the middle, the sports players all being weird in the garden like it’s their job to be loud enough that campus security gets called.

And Donghyuck ends up where he always finds himself, squashed between drunk girls he doesn't know as they dust eyeshadow onto him and dot his face with blush.

“You’re so cute,” One of them says, swaying slightly as she pulls a tube of glitter gloss out of her bag. “You want lipstick?”

“You could have any kind of disease and I wouldn’t know about it,” Donghyuck says, only half serious.

Another of the girls giggles and pushes his hair back from his face. “She doesn’t, I promise. You’d look even prettier with your eyebrows filled in and some liner, what do you think?”

Mark is downstairs, probably in the garden somewhere, shooting hoops or snorting grass or whatever straight boys think is fun. Donghyuck likes getting his makeup done by pretty girls, so he says, “Do whatever you want, I don’t mind.”

They squeal, and he’s descended upon like crops dwarfed by locusts.

Half an hour he stumbles out of the bedroom, full of too much fizzy wine, covered in way too much glitter, smelling of perfume – some kind of Beyonce fragrance. Not that he’s complaining about the smell, because it’s nice, it would just be even nicer if he was less drunk so he could make his way down the stairs without his ankles folding in.

“Donghyuck, you left your phone up here!”

He groans, sat at the bottom of the stairs. “I can’t make it back up, can one of you throw it down for me?”

His phone is hurled down the narrow space and smacks into his back. He groans again and fishes around for it, then rings Mark.

“Hey? Hello?” Mark is giggling as he answers, and Donghyuck can hear screaming in the background, chanting and possibly someone vomiting.

“Are you in the garden?”

“Yeah!”

“Cool, I’ll come join you.”

“Wait Hyuck there’s-“

He hangs up and stumbles through the house, into the kitchen and out of the back door, bumping into a guy he mumbles some kind of apology to.

“Isn’t a gay guy wearing makeup kind of a stereotype?”

Donghyuck looks up at that, unconcerned with the guy trying to look cool for his small crowd of friends and the one uninterested girl watching him with thinly veiled distaste. “A guy with a face even his mother struggles to love lecturing someone else about their appearance? Isn’t _that_ kind of a stereotype, assface?”

The girl goes pink and covers her mouth, trying not to laugh.

Donghyuck salutes the guy and leaves, putting a lot of focus on his feet so that he doesn’t trip and ruin his cool moment.

Being petty has small but heartwarming perks, like cool exits, and the way Mark looks up when Donghyuck arrives and then does a double take.

“Hyuck? Why are you so... pink?” Mark sniffs. “And why do you smell like a department store?”

“Some girls did my makeup.”

Another guy with an overflowing solo cup laughs. “Whack, dude. Why’d you let them do that?”

“You wouldn’t let girls do your makeup?”

“No, I’m not like that.”

His stomach tenses and humour leaves his body as quickly as it had arrived. “You’re not like what?”

“You know.”

“I don’t think I do.” He shrugs off Mark’s hand. “Say what you mean. Clarify it for me.”

The guy winces. “I just mean, you know. I’m not gay, or a girl.”

“What does being gay have to do with makeup or being a girl?”

“Come on,” the guy says, pitifully trying to laugh it off.

Donghyuck doesn’t much feel like laughing. “I want you to tell me what you meant.”

“Hyuck, just let it go,” Mark says, tugging on his hand now. “Come on, we’ll go somewhere else.”

But he can’t let it go. No matter how many times he’s told to be the bigger person, let it slide, not give them something to bite on – he can’t. Every single time a person makes a comment about gays, whether intentional or not, he goes to bed and thinks about it for weeks. He goes to bed and thinks about the guy or that girl that thinks it’s okay to make snide remarks and play it off as humour, and he thinks about them saying it to someone else, maybe someone younger, a kid that doesn’t know themselves yet. A kid who could hear those jokes and learn to hate themselves and others because of it.

“I want to know what’s so bad about being seen as gay,” he says slowly. “I want you to tell me what it is about gay people that offends you.”

“I’m not homophobic dude!” the guy says, backing off slightly. “I just don’t want to be seen as a gay guy, is all. I don’t have anything against them, but it’s not me.”

“You don’t want to be seen as gay in the same way you don’t want to wear makeup because you’re scared to be seen as a woman. That sounds homophobic and misogynistic to me. Sounds like you consider yourself better than that, which is both misguided and fucking stupid.”

“Seriously, you need to calm down.”

“Okay,” Mark says, “That’s enough. Time to go, Hyuck.”

“No-“

But he doesn’t get a choice, because one second he’s standing there, ready to square up with some random stranger almost twice his height, and the next he’s being flung over Mark’s shoulder in a fireman’s lift and being jogged away from the scene.

It takes his tipsy brain a few crucial seconds to figure out what’s happened, but when he does he flings himself into action, flailing in Mark’s hold, hitting and tickling whatever expanse of skin he can find while hanging upside down. “Mark, put me down! Mark!”

“Stop tickling me!” Mark sounds annoyed, but he’s giggling, painfully so, as Donghyuck pulls up his shirt and digs his fingers into Mark’s ribs.

“Put me down!”

“No! We’re going for burgers and then we’re going home.”

“I don’t want burgers I want to educate that asshole about what he can say to fucking strangers wearing makeup like he gets to decide what’s okay and what isn’t on other people’s bodies-“

_“Hyuck.”_

He stops ranting, still bobbing around over Mark’s shoulder. Mark is stronger than he looks, which, yeah, he does a lot of sport, so he should be. But still. This isn’t how Donhycuk wants to be carried, but it’ll do. Being this close will do. “Yes?”

“You have to pick your battles, Hyuck. You were at a party full of frat dudes, in a garden full of _sport_ frat dudes. They’re even worse. Hyungwoo is stupid but harmless, but there were a lot of guys there that would have hurt you and laughed about it, if they’d heard you.”

His eyes begin to burn as his chest blooms into throbbing ache. “They shouldn’t _want_ to hurt me.”

“I know,” Mark says softly, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You’re a sport freak and you don’t hate me, so why do they?” he asks. His voice cracks, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“I really don’t know. I don’t.”

“Why are you friends with them?” he whispers. “If you know they hate me, why are you friends with them?”

“They’re not my friends,” Mark replies. They’re almost half way down the street now, and the party is a distant pounding of bass and muffled laughter. Mark lowers Donghyuck to his feet and steadies his wobbly legs. “They’re not my friends. I hang with the good ones, but if I wanna play basketball I have to put up with the losers too.”

“Do you say shit like that when I’m not around?” Donghyuck asks.

Mark looks stricken. “I can’t believe you would ask me that.”

“I can’t believe people give me shit for wearing some eyeshadow, Mark.”

“Me neither,” Mark says. His voice is soft, and he lifts a hand not to stroke Donghyuck’s cheek like he hopes for deep down in his heart, but to tug on a lock of his hair instead. “You look cute in pink. I don’t get it at all.”

_I love you. I want you to be proud to be seen with me. I want you to fight with me._

He smacks Mark’s hand away. “You said something about burgers?”

“Yeah, I’ll pay.”

“You fucking better.”

 

-

 

Donghyuck likes boys. He always has. It wasn’t like Jaemin, who had a meltdown at sixteen when he realised for the first time that the only person he really wanted to be with was Jeno. It wasn’t groundbreaking like Yukhei, who looked at a random guy and went, ‘ _I’d tap that. Wait. Guys, I’d tap that!’_

It’s just the way he’s always been.

His first kiss was a boy in his class, and they’d both liked it, which had terrified them into never speaking to each other again. Since then he’s become more courageous in some ways; has learnt not to fear rejection and disgust, because he knows he’s surrounded by people that care for him no matter what, and kissing has become a more frequent game to distract him from himself, now that he’s finally free to flirt.

Jaemin had called him a shameless hussy, and maybe that’s kind of right. He likes to meet new guys, and he likes the game of seduction, he likes watching in real time as they fall for him just a little, as they slump lower to his height, press closer, watch his mouth when he bites his lips. He likes the game of it all, enjoys the reward if the guy actually knows how to kiss.

He likes when Mark yanks him away and hisses at him that he’s playing with fire, he’s being stupid, not realising he’s worth more than some trashy guy in a club-

And that’s wrong. He knows it’s wrong.

Still.

If he can’t have Mark, he might as well annoy the shit out of him for as long as he possibly can.

 

-

 

“They’re really cute,” Kun says as he passes Donghyuck some orange juice, watching Jeno smack Jaemin for whatever cringey thing he’d said.

“Sooooo cute,” Donghyuck says unenthusiastically. At Kun’s sharp look, he deflates. “Sorry. They are cute. I’m really happy for them.”

“You don’t sound happy at all.”

“Life is hard.”

“Of course it is, you’re nineteen. If anything it’s just going to get harder, so you might as well be happy while you can. Is there anything I can help with?”

 _Make Mark love me back?_ “Thank you, but I don’t think so.”

Kun drops a hand to his shoulder. “Since he’s starting to become a functioning adult, I think Ten might actually be a good source of – _Chenle put that down!_ – Sorry, I think Ten might be a source of good advice for teenage troubles. He’s only just matured past thirteen, so everything is still fresh.”

“I don’t need any advice.”

“Well, unless you want to bog your friends down in your misery, I think you do.”

“Ouch.”

“Donghyuck!” Mark calls from the couch. “Who respects women more, Iron Man or Thor?”

“Are you kidding? Thor was raised on respect women juice, who is saying Iron Man?”

Johnny lowers his head sheepishly.

“Thank you for your intelligent input,” Mark says, flashing him a bright smile he can’t help but return.

“Thanks for finally admitting you’re dumb as shit without me.”

Kun elbows him and gives him an incredibly droll stare. “Please talk to Ten, I don’t need more of this.”

So, because Kun is so kind and so tired, he wanders off to find Ten, who is squashed in Yukhei’s bedroom with Jungwoo and Jaehyun. They all lift their heads when Donghyuck enters, but Jaehyun just sighs. “Come in, close the door behind you. We’re trying to organise a surprise for Doyoung.”

“I thought he didn’t like surprises.”

“He doesn’t, but he’ll probably like this one.”

Donghyuck closes the door. “Are you gonna propose?”

Jaehyun goes pink. “God no, not yet. I just wanna plan a holiday for his birthday.”

“Isn’t his birthday like. Next year?”

“Yeah, but travelling takes time to organise.”

Donghyuck shrugs. “Whatever you say, boss. Can I speak to Ten please?”

Ten raises one brow. “Me?”

“Yeah, Kun says you’re the guy to talk to when it comes to gay shit.”

He puffs out his chest. “What a title. Sure, kid, come sit next to me and tell me all about your woes.”

Jungwoo glances between them, but his eyes settle on Ten heavily. “Don’t do this to Hyuckie, Ten. He’s just as sharp as you.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun agrees, standing and offering a hand to Jungwoo. “Donghyuck is, if anything, even worse than you are. Watch yourself.”

They leave the two alone, and Ten pats the bed beside him. “I’m going to ignore what they just said, because the implication that anyone is on my level is quite frankly insulting, so come take a seat and tell me what I can help you with.”

“I don’t know. Kun just told me to speak to you because I’m making everyone else miserable.”

“Oof.”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re in love with a straight guy?”

Donghyuck blinks, taken aback.

“Come on, every problem is usually because of a straight guy. Which one is it? Taeil? Kun? That little round kid?”

“...Chenle?”

“Yeah.”

“No. It’s Mark.”

Ten laughs. “Ah, Johnny’s little protégé. Of course it’s Mark.” He stretches out his legs. “Well, I thought Johnny was straight, so I can’t blame you.”

“Yeah, but that’s fucking stupid. Johnny has been mooning over you for years.”

Ten looks at him sharply. “You think you’ve got room to talk?”

“Mark is straight.”

“You can’t know that until you ask.”

“I _have_ asked, asshole. I’ve confessed more times than I can count. He’s still straight. I’m still in love with him, and he knows. He doesn’t feel the same way.”

Ten throws himself back against the bedding with a thump, his hair flying everywhere before settling back perfectly over his forehead. “Sounds bad.” He pouts, considering. “So this isn’t strictly _good_ advice, and Kun would smack me if he heard me asking you this, but have you tried making him jealous?”

“Yes.” He’s tries that, makes Mark angry every chance he can get – sometimes it feels like he’s so selfish that no one could ever possibly love him. And yet he can’t make himself stop. “He just gets mad at me for like, risking my safety or something. We’re best friends, so I get it. I’d worry about him too, if the roles were reversed.”

“Have you tried just sticking your tongue in his mouth and seeing if he likes it?”

“No! That would be way out of line!”

“Probably, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“If he doesn’t want me, he doesn’t want me,” Donghyuck says, as painful as it is to admit. “I don’t want his pity and I definitely don’t want him to be unhappy.”

Ten sighs, staring up at the ceiling. “Well shit, dude. I don’t know how to solve this one. I really don’t.”

Donghyuck swallows. “It’s fine. I’ve lived like this for years; I’m good at it now. It’s fine.”

“I told myself that too,” Ten murmurs. “But it feels like dying on the inside.” He looks at Donghyuck with a sudden intensity. “You’re no coward, not like me. I can see it in your eyes that you’re fiery, but don’t stay out of pride. If he doesn’t love you, don’t stay.”

“He loves me,” Donghyuck says, a pathetic attempt at arguing that even he isn’t convinced by. “Just... not like I love him.”

“And you’re happy like this? Don’t bullshit me. You can’t live your life waiting to be loved like you want.”

“Who made you the fucking authority on healthy living?” Donghyuck spits, scrambling off the bed. “Dickwad.” He doesn’t wanna hear this, not from someone else, not from someone that got their happily ever after. It’s so _condescending,_ and his pride is already in tatters.

“Donghyuck-“

“Fuck _off,_ you tiny asshole.”

A gentle knock taps against the door. “Uh, guys? Can I have my bedroom back for a while?”

Donghyuck yanks open the door and storms past Yukhei. “Be my fucking guest.”

“Donghyuck!”

He shoves his feet into his sneakers and leaves Kun’s apartment as fast as he can, ignoring Jeno’s surprised voice, ignoring Kun’s indignant cries.

“Donghyuck!”

“Fuck off, Mark!” He doesn’t turn around. The sky is overcast, the air stifling, and he supposes that is pathetic fallacy or something, but it doesn’t feel poetic, it just feels painful. _Why not me?_ He wants to scream it in everyone’s face. He’s loved Mark longer than Jaemin has loved Jeno, he’s loved Mark longer than Jaehyun has known Doyoung, longer than Yukhei has known Jungwoo, longer than Johnny has known Ten – why doesn’t he get his happy ending? Why can’t Mark love him back? It had hurt before, but with everyone so happy, it’s agony now.

“Hyuck, come on, wait up!”

“Go away, fat head!”

“Stop being such a brat!”

“Stop following me!”

“No!” Mark catches his arm, but he yanks himself away.

“Leave me alone, Mark.”

“No, idiot, I’m not leaving you like this.” He grabs on again and manages to cling despite Donghyucks struggling, like an annoying octopus with too many limbs for Donghyuck to escape from.

“Get off me!”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

“I’m just in a bad mood, leave me alone.”

“You’ve been in a bad mood for weeks, what the hell is going on with you?” Mark asks, staring at him. “Seriously Hyuck, you’re not yourself.”

“I don’t _want_ to be me anymore!”

It comes out more pained than intended, more open, honest, and just... sad. Mark loosens his grip, shocked, and finally lets Donghyuck wriggle out of his arms.

“I want you to be you,” Mark says quietly. “I don’t want you to be anyone else.”

“It would just be easier if I was straight, right?” he asks, throat burning. “I’m gonna go home and nap. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

“Hyuck...”

“Don’t bother. Please. Just let me sleep this one out.”

 

-

 

He has approximately half an hour alone to cry to himself and wallow before Jaemin picks his lock and breaks into his dorm with his arms full of candy.

“Wake up asshole, we’re gonna talk about our fucking feelings.”

“Go away, Jaemin.”

“Nope. Sit up, Hyuckie, come on. Get some gummy worms in you and you’ll feel better.”

He lifts his head at that. “What flavour?”

“I got those fizzy bubblegum ones you like.”

He sits up. “Fine. Thank you.”

Jaemin passes them into his grabby hands and kisses the top of his head. “Now tell me what’s going on. Mark came back to Kun’s looking like a little lost sheep, and I can only assume you said something mean again.”

“I just said what he was thinking.”

“And what’s that?”

“That it would be easier for him if I was straight.”

Jaemin is silent for a moment, and then he’s swinging a pillow into Donghyuck’s face. “Dumbass! Did you actually say that to him?”

He bats away the pillow. “Yes I said it! And?”

“That’s an awful thing to say to your best friend, especially one struggling with his own sexuality.”

He laughs, and it comes out so harsh that even Jaemin flinches. “Don’t make me laugh. Mark isn’t struggling with anything, he never has. He’s straight as a steel fucking rod and we both know it.”

“Jeno thought he was straight, too. So did I, once upon a time. So did Yukhei, so did most LGBT people. It’s this thing called conditioning, where the world raises you to be one way and after a while you realise that it’s wrong.”

“Don’t you dare lecture me on sexuality like I don’t understand what it’s like to grow up gay.”

Jaemin sits down and pulls Donghyuck’s head into his lap and begins stroking his hair softly. “I know, Hyuckie. You know better than most of us, right? You’ve known for such a long time, and you were the one that talked each of us through it. I would never have found the courage to admit to myself that I’m bi without you, and Jeno would still be lost in his own head if you hadn’t, however accidentally, told him my feelings. Yukhei would probably be dead from hitting on the wrong guy, and you helped him understand that too, that some people just aren’t approachable in the same way once you’re out of the closet. You’ve been so kind to us all, so gentle, and now you’re being so horrible to yourself. Why?”

He closes his eyes against the threat of tears and lets Jaemin play with the ends of his hair. “There’s only so much I can stand, Jaemin. Jeno woke up, and I’m so happy for you both, but it’s different with Mark. You know it is. He knows I’m gay, he knows I love him, and I’ve tried. I’ve tried so many times. I hug him, he pushes me away. I try and show him any kind of attention and he always gets embarrassed, he gets flustered, he gets unhappy – and it’s just me. He doesn’t care if Chenle sits on his knee and pokes at his cheeks; he doesn’t care if you’re draped all over him. It’s just me.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe it’s you for a reason? Maybe Mark rejects you for the same reason that Jeno was so possessive of me without realising. For Jeno, he couldn’t let me be with anyone else, though he didn’t realise his own feelings. Maybe for Mark, he’s scared. Maybe he’s just worried about ruining something. You’ve never asked him anything, Hyuckie, you’ve just blurted out your feelings and assumed that you’re not good enough.”

“You’d think in the ten years I’ve loved him he might at some point tell me his own feelings if he loved me back, Jaemin.”

He feels Jaemin shrug. “I think you’re underestimating how stupid Mark can be.”

“I think you’re underestimating how obvious I’ve been.”

“Oh, Hyuckie, I’ve seen it. Believe me, you couldn’t be more blatant. Mark is still an idiot when he wants to be though. Have you ever actually asked how he feels?”

“Not in as many words.”

“Maybe just try that, then. Just ask. Just... see what it is exactly that he wants.”

“You’re awfully brave now that you have your own relationship, huh.”

“I’m brave because you walked Jeno through the hardest thing he’s ever had to go through, which was recognising his own sexuality. I didn’t do that Hyuckie, you did. Now we’re happy together, and we see how sad you are, and we want you to be happy too.”

“I just want Mark to be happy, and I want this to stop hurting.”

“Maybe those two problems have the same solution.”

“Stop,” he whispers. “Just... stop. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“You tell him you love him, but you’ve never shown him any kind of trust. You’ve never offered him anything.”

_“Stop.”_

“You’re so scared of rejection that you assume it before he can even register that there’s any kind of option there for him to love you back.”

He yanks his head of Jaemin’s lap. “Get out.”

“Hyuck-“

“Just _go._ Just leave me alone.”

“No.” Jaemin grabs his hands and squeezes. “You aren’t going to lash out and push me away. Tell me what it is you love about Mark. Tell me.”

“I just-“

“I want you to say it, out loud.”

“I love his intelligence,” Donghyuck says, tears brimming. “His kindness, he’s so nice to everyone, so friendly and open and giving. I love his silly sense of humour, how he can make me laugh no matter the occasion, I love how talented he is, how hard he works to be good at what he’s passionate about.” The tears spill over and his voice cracks. “I love that he loves me too, even if it isn’t in the same way as I love him. I love how forgiving he is, how quiet he gets when he’s concentrating, how much he pouts without realising he’s doing it. I love who he’s becoming, and I love who he’s always been.”

“And what makes you think he can’t feel that way about you? Is the problem his sexuality or your own insecurity?”

“Stop it Jaemin.”

“You’ve been lonely for so long that the thought of someone loving you is terrifying, and I understand, Hyuckie, I really do,” Jaemin says softly. “But that doesn’t stop people from loving you. Even if he isn’t in love with you, Mark loves you. You’re his best friend, just like Jeno is mine. Some relationships change, some don’t, but you can’t stay like this, suffering like you are. You have to ask, and you have to know, for certain. Asking is the hardest part, it always is, but I’m here. I promise I’m here, just like you’ve always been there for me.”

He covers his face and cries, and when Jaemin pulls him into a tight hug, he doesn’t shove him away.

 

-

 

He goes home for a week, spending it with his parents and his grandparents, picking strawberries and helping his grandmother shop for fabrics to sew with. Jaemin had threatened him with bodily harm, saying that he’d face certain doom if he didn’t take a break, and in the end when he comes back, he does feel better.

More awake, more like himself.

They have a film night to welcome him back, and he sits between Mark and Renjun at the foot of the couch, Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung behind them.

“How was your break?” Mark asks quietly, barely audible above the film.

“Good thanks.”

“How do you feel?”

“Fine. Better.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me too,” he murmurs.

Ever so slowly, Mark reaches across and puts his hand over Donghyuck’s, then leaves it there. Not holding him, but resting. “You know I’m here for you, right?”

He blinks rapidly. “I know. I know.”

They leave their hands there throughout the film.

 

-

 

Lunchtime on Wednesday, Mark visits Donghyuck during his shift at the front desk of the gym and brings him a hotdog.

“Would you go out with me?” Donghyuck asks. “Please?”

Mark steals a bite of the hotdog despite already finishing his own. “Sure. Where is it you wanna go?”

“You pick.”

Mark cocks his head, still chewing. “Seems a bit pointless to go out for the sake of going out, if you don’t even have a destination in mind.”

Donghyuck sighs. “Never mind.”

“Sometimes you’re weird.”

“Sometimes you’re so stupid it actually hurts me to look at you.”

Mark snatches back the remainder of the hotdog. “Mean people don’t get hotdogs.”

“Hey!”

 

-

 

It’s more difficult to breach the topic than he’d assumed it would be.

_Hey, you know when I tell you I love you and you laugh awkwardly I actually mean I’m madly in love with you, right?_

He just needs to say it, out loud, to Mark’s face.

But he can’t.

He sees Mark, with his unruly hair and his gangly limbs and tiny teeth and contagious smile, and he just thinks about losing it all. He thinks about the first time he’d seen Mark’s expression when he’d said _‘I love you,’_ and how he’d gone home, rejection firmly assumed, and had cried so much he’d thrown up.

His one sided love is selfish and lonely, but it’s all he’s ever known.

 

-

 

“You’re gay, right?” A girl asks him at a party. “I’ve seen you around campus with that Jaemin guy. You’re both queer, huh?”

“I’m gay, he’s bisexual,” Donghyuck replies. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

She giggles over the rim of her drink. “Don’t worry about it, I was just asking because of Mark.”

“What?”

“My friend has a major crush on him, and we were both wondering if you were gonna, like, persuade him or something. But if you have Jaemin then you don’t need to go after straight guys, right?”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Donghyuck asks, hand tightening around his drink until his fingers cramp against the glass.

“We all see the way you hang around Mark,” she says, eyes wide open in a shitty veil of innocence that doesn’t so much as dim the malice. “But he’s the star of the basketball team. You can’t just go after whoever you want and hope that because you have a cute face you can have them all. It’s selfish.”

“We’ve been friends since we were kids,” Donghyuck says, objecting in a voice barely above a whisper, swept away in the deafening music of the bar. He can fight when they’re stupid, when they’re mean, when they’re loud – but when they’re like this, quiet and cutting and deliberately using their words to make him feel smaller – he feels like he can’t do anything.

“Oh, you’re _friends,”_ she says to him, this faceless girl that looks just like everyone else that’s ever made him feel two feet tall. “If you’re friends then you really care about his reputation, right? Maybe you should take some time to think about it.”

 

-

 

“Do you ever want to disappear?” Donghyuck asks Renjun, later that evening.

They’re in the park, having ditched the bar together, each on their own swing, dangling their feet in the low evening light.

“No,” Renjun says. “But sometimes I want everyone else to disappear.”

“Do you think I’m selfish?”

“Not more than anyone else is. You want what you want, just like every person. Did you think Jaemin was selfish before Jeno wanted him back?”

“No, but Jaemin is different.”

Renjun hums. “That’s a sad fact of life. Everyone is different, Donghyuck. You’re more annoying than most, but you’re not more selfish. I’d tell you if you were.”

“Thanks,” he whispers.

“You’re welcome. Do you wanna help me with my history assignment?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll make you a hot chocolate.”

He groans. “Fine, but it better be delicious.”

“It will be.”

It is.

 

-

 

Mark invites him to another frat party on the Saturday, and it’s got such a dubious crowd that even Jeno backs out.

“Not risking it man,” he says, hands raised. “I have a project due Monday and the last time I went to one of those parties I left without my shoes and never found my organ donor card. I don’t know who took it or what they’ve done with it, and quite frankly I’m scared to ask.”

“I’ll come,” Jaemin says simply. At Donghyuck’s raised brows, he gets defensive. “What? I’m not gonna let you go alone.”

“Let me know how it is,” Jeno says, leaning up, pouting for Jaemin to drop a soft kiss against his waiting mouth.

“Don’t wake me up when you come in,” Renjun says from Jeno’s lap, eyes focused on his phone. “I need some real rest since I’m helping Kun tomorrow.”

“We’ll be quiet,” Jaemin says. He leans down and kisses Jeno again, and again, and again, until Donghyuck gets bored of waiting and kicks him in the shin, and then they get going.

“Think there’ll be weed?”

“It’s a frat party, honey,” Jaemin says. “There’ll be everything until campus security arrives.”

“You’re not gonna do anything are you?”

“I’m not even gonna drink. I’ll be on a strict water diet for the remainder of the evening. Kun is merciless when we turn up with hangovers and you know it.”

“I guess.”

“Anyway,” Jaemin says. He looks at Donghyuck out of the corner of his eye. “You look good.”

“Thanks. You look fine.”

“I look amazing, but that’s nothing new. You look especially good this evening. I love it when you mess up your hair like that and you wear those jeans. Anyone with half a brain would fall for you.”

“Everyone must be functioning with much less than half a brain, then.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, Jeno got his finger stuck in the faucet this morning. Again.”

“You sound weirdly happy about it.”

Jaemin’s smile is hopelessly endeared. “I kind of am. I’m in love with an idiot. He loves me back. I never thought I’d be this happy to visit his dorm with a wrench at five in the morning, but I couldn’t stop laughing.”

“I’m glad for you,” Donghyuck says. It feels more genuine the more he says it.

“Thank you,” Jaemin says, putting one hand on his shoulder. “Now let’s find Markie so we can live up the high life of a broke student.”

 

-

 

Mark is in the centre of everything, as he always is. He’s wearing Donghyuck’s hat.

“Hyuck! Jaemin!” he drags them into the circle, and someone else passes Donghyuck an overflowing solo cup of some unidentified brown liquid, then sits him down next to Mark. “A game is about to start.”

“What game?”

Mark shrugs. “I don’t know yet.”

“Truth or dare!” someone cheers, and the room breaks into yells and laughter. Those in the circle hunch forward to hear the orders, and after a second Jaemin stands up, waving off the disappointment.

“Sorry guys, but I’m not gonna be playing this evening.” He looks at Donghyuck. “If you need me I’ll be over there with Renjun’s weird photography friends.”

Donghyuck nods and turns back to the circle just in time to see two guys lean across the open space and kiss each other.

He kind of wants to laugh at how pathetically straight they are, both cringing away from each other like someone has the plague or something, but they both receive cheers for their efforts. Even Mark claps.

Donghyuck sits back and sips his drink when a girl gets dared to take her top off, and takes the forfeit of a shot of mayonnaise instead.

“I hate mayo,” Mark whispers to him, making Donghyuck giggle.

“I know.”

“Minseok, you next! Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Have you masturbated to the thought of anyone in this room?”

The circle descends into chaos, but after a while another shot of mayo is downed, and then someone is asking Mark, “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Seven minutes in heaven!” someone cheers, and the rest of the circle whoops.

“Alright, Mark has to do seven minutes in heaven! Spin the bottle to find your partner, Mark.”

He does, and Donghyuck watching with dread, waiting for it to land on one of the blushing girls, waiting for it to stop on someone that isn’t him.

But of course life isn’t that kind. Of course it stops at him, and the circle cheers again, deafening.

Mark throws an arm over his shoulder, laughing. “Seven minutes in a closet with Hyuck? Easy as fucking cake, we grew up together.”

Donghyuck nods, laughing awkwardly. “Are you sure?”

“Of course! If I have to consume that mayo I’m gonna pass out, don’t make me do it.”

“Fine,” Donghyuck says, allowing himself to get pulled to his feet and thrown into the closet with Mark.

Someone takes their phones and turns out the light from the outside, then, still laughing, says, “Seven minutes, guys. Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.”

The door is closed, dousing them in darkness, the music muffled amongst winter coats and old shoes.

Donghyuck sighs and sits himself down on the floor gingerly, trying not to sit on anything pointy. After a minute he hears the rustle of Mark joining him, and then it’s quiet and dark again, and Donghyuck desperately wants to know is going on outside.

“So this is how it feels to be in the closet, huh?” he says out loud, just to hear Mark giggle.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Sure.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing!” he says, laughing when Mark smacks his arm.

“Seriously dude!”

“Mark, I was joking.”

“I know,” Mark says. Donghyuck hears him blow out a quick sigh. “I know.”

“Still,” Donghyuck says, confident in the dark because he can’t actually see Mark. “You never know.”

“Never know what?”

“I mean, you’ve only ever been with girls right?”

“So?”

“So how do you know you’re entirely straight?”

“I just do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck says in a way that implies he knows better (he doesn’t. He doesn’t know anything).

“What, are you offering or something?” Mark asks. Maybe it’s meant to sound cocky, but he just sounds panicked.

Donghyuck’s stomach clenches. “Offering what?”

“For me to kiss you?”

Okay yeah, confidence gone, completely replaced with dread and self loathing. “What makes you ask?”

“You like kissing guys a lot, right? You do it all the time.”

“So?”

“So you’re probably as good as it gets.”

“For a gay guy, you mean?”

“I mean if I don’t enjoy kissing you, I wouldn’t enjoy kissing any guy.”

This is so stupid. It’s so stupid. “So you’re asking me to kiss you?”

“I don’t know.”

Jaemin helped Jeno. _Look how that turned out._ Except it isn’t the same, and Donghyuck knows that. Jeno was in turmoil, upset, searching out strangers to fill the void in his heart. Mark is tipsy from lukewarm beer and they’re squashed in a dark closet at a frat party. It means nothing.

“I can kiss you. If you want me to.”

“Yeah?” Mark whispers. “Just to see what it’s like, right? I’m just kind of-“

“Curious,” Donghyuck finishes for him. “Yeah. I know.”

“Will you?”

“Sure,” he says. “Sure. Okay.”

Then nothing. Silence from Mark, and Donghyuck can’t see his expression, can’t see any disgust or rejection – he can’t see anything.

So he feels, instead.

He lifts his hands gently in the darkness, aiming for where Mark’s head should be, and bumps against a cheekbone with his fingers; from there he traces the shape of Mark’s face, the soft slope of his nose, his small mouth.

He wants to do this in daylight.

He wants to do it with the certainty that Mark wants it as much as he does.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” Mark whispers against Donghyuck’s fingers. “Sure.”

So he breaches the gap and presses their lips together, and closes his eyes so he can stare at the more familiar darkness as his heart breaks again, and again, and again.

As Mark gasps a little.

As he gingerly starts kissing back.

It’s small at first, a slight movement that shows his nerves, but then their lips part and their noses bump together, and Mark jolts so hard that their teeth clack together and Donghyuck laughs despite himself. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Mark whispers. “I’m just trying – I mean – can I?”

 _Can you what?_ “Sure, whatever,” Donghyuck agrees senselessly.

Then Mark’s kissing him again, and this time there’s a tongue in his mouth, and he stops thinking about anything at all.

He hears himself make a noise, small and squeaky and humiliating – but it’s as if he’s hearing it from another room. Another building. Another city.

Mark’s hands slide into his hair and tilt his head to the side, and god, he’s a straight guy he shouldn’t kiss this well, he shouldn’t feel this good, he shouldn’t be this gentle, this kiss shouldn’t mean so much but it _does._ It all feels so right, like Donghyuck could stay in the moment forever, could feel Mark’s lips against his own forever.

“Hyuck,” Mark manages between their mouths, pulling back only far enough to force out, “Fuck. I think I like it.”

Then they’re kissing again.

Then the door is being yanked open, and Donghyuck gets to see the cloudy wonder leave Mark’s eyes as they open and focus on whoever opened the door.

He doesn’t look happy.

He looks cold and terrified as the outside world slams back in, and for the maybe the first time in his life, Donghyuck realises he doesn’t want his love to be selfish anymore.

“Go,” he whispers, wiping the back of his mouth as he stands. “Trust me and leave.”

Mark nods, eyes wide and unseeing, and he runs.

Donghyuck remembers the pain of rejection. He remembers the fear of it, the dread, then the follow through, the wound that seemed to keep growing, because rejection is something that never truly stops hurting. He remembers it, he knows it.

He doesn’t ever want Mark to feel that.

Outside in the harsh lighting, with the booming music, the room seems to be wedged full of crowing guys, some who pat Donghyuck’s back, others who look away, all of who are talking over each other.

He catches a couple of sentences here and there in the seconds it takes him to decide what to do.

_“I knew it-“_

_“Knew Mark was gay, he had to be-“_

_“Donghyuck has been with him forever, we should have known-“_

_“The team’s ace is fucking gay?”_

_“This is fucked up, I can’t believe we didn’t realise sooner-“_

Donghyuck goes up to the first familiar face and shoves his finger into their chest. “Hey.”

The guy stares down, disgust at the corner of his mouth, in his eyes, but Donghyuck doesn’t fucking care right now. “What do you want?”

“You need to know the truth about Mark,” he says through numb lips. “He isn’t gay. He’s straight, he’s always been straight. I just – I’ve been in love with him for years, and I forced him to kiss me. He didn’t want to, he doesn’t like me like that at all, I just guilted him into it. This isn’t his fault. He isn’t like me.”

“You forced him?”

“You’re in love with him?” someone else interjects, glee in the voice. “With our ace player? Seriously? You actually thought you’d have a chance with Mark?”

It’s so easy to turn the tide of opinion when they’re already so unwilling to believe what they didn’t want to see. It’s so easy to go back to pretending.

_“I knew Mark wasn’t gay-“_

_“So it’s just Donghyuck?”_

_“Just Donghyuck like always.”_

_“Yeah he’s always like this with everyone, haven’t you seen? He’s so clingy-“_

_“I heard he tried to kiss Kwangjo the other week-“_

The guy sneers down at him. “I knew that even a pretty faggot like you wouldn’t persuade someone like Mark to love you.”

A hand closes around his throat and the guy’s eyes bulge out as Jaemin shoves him into the wall, and the room descends into chaos as people start screaming.

“Jaemin stop it!” Donghyuck yells, pulling at his arms. “Stop! Stop it!”

“They’re filming this,” Jaemin spits, tightening his hands until the throat beneath his palm begins to bloom purple. “They’re filming and laughing at you-“

“Stop,” Donghyuck begs, still pulling. “Please, you’re gonna get suspended if you don’t let go, I don’t care about their opinions just let go _please.”_

Jaemin looks at him, eyes bright and watery despite the burning fury. “But Hyuckie, you’re crying.”

“I don’t care,” Donghyuck whispers. “Please. Please, just stop.”

Jaemin lets go and the guy falls to the floor, spluttering, clutching at his throat. His friends rush down to help him, but no one goes near Jaemin, none of the basketball team or the rowers or the boxers, and Donghyuck doesn’t blame them. If he didn’t know Jaemin, didn’t love him, he wouldn’t go near him looking like he does, like anyone could step in front of him and he’d kill them without flinching.

“Jaemin, let’s go,” he whispers. “Let’s go.”

Slowly Jaemin nods. He accepts Donghyuck’s hand when he holds it out, and he drags him out as fast as he can, leaving the room and entering the rest of the dorm, the rest of the crowds oblivious, dancing and shouting and doing shots. Someone shouts for Jaemin, a cheerful welcome, but Donghyuck keeps a tight grip on his hand until they’re out of the building, well away from the faces, well away from the laughter and disgust and revulsion.

For the first time, he understands Mark’s fear when Donghyuck had picked fights with people he wasn’t big enough to defend himself against, because Jaemin would have gone down in a room full of athletes, taking as many with him as he could.

They keep walking in silence.

They just keep walking.

And walking.

It seems to hit Jaemin pretty suddenly, because one minute he’s striding along, and the next he’s crumpled on the path sobbing, face hidden in his knees.

Donghyuck crouches down next to him, wipes his own leaking eyes and rubs Jaemin’s back. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not fucking okay!” Jaemin hisses, looking up with his blotchy face and pained eyes. “Why the fuck is the world still like this? Everyone is so ready to accept gay people as inherently predatory as if we can’t care about people, as if we don’t _love –_ and _you,_ Hyuckie, the disgusting things they said about you! It makes me sick! Why the hell would you tell them it was your fault?”

“They’re Mark’s friends,” he says. “Basketball is his passion, and that was a room full of people he liked. I don’t care what they think about me, but he cares what they think about him. I don’t want to take that from him.”

It makes Jaemin sob harder, and no matter what Donghyuck says, Jaemin won’t look up.

He does the only thing he can think of and rings Jeno, who sprints the whole way and arrives minutes after Donghyck hangs up, wheezing and so sweaty that it drags a laugh out of Jaemin before he starts crying again.

“Damn, were the songs that bad?” Jeno jokes before Jaemin slumps into his eyes, crying into his neck. He laughs nervously at Donghyuck. “How many times did they play Cotton Eye Joe?”

“If anyone is ever homophobic to you,” Jaemin says suddenly, snapping upright to stare into Jeno’s panicked eyes, “Tell me and I’ll kill them. I mean it, I’ll fucking kill them.”

Jeno pats him very gently on the ass. “Okay, honey. You wanna stop crying so we can all make sure Hyuck gets home safe?”

Jaemin makes an undignified snort and wipes his eyes, nodding. “Okay. Hyuckie, I’m going to kill for you too, just so you’re aware. They’re all going to die.”

“Please don’t murder for me,” Donghyuck says. He’s still crying too, just a little, but that’s fine.

It’s fine.

He did what he had to do.

 

-

 

Jaemin rings him the next morning. “Are you going to Kun’s?”

“Not today,” he says. “I just – I need a few days.”

“Okay,” Jaemin replies. “Open the door, I’m outside.”

They spend the day wrapped in blankets, locked together like they used to be before Mark and Jeno, back when it was just them and their feelings and their bleeding hearts.

 

-

 

There’s videos on snapchat of the evening, but they don’t watch them.

 

-

 

“Is Mark okay?” Donghyuck asks at some time in the evening.

“I think so. Renjun and Johnny are with him.”

“Okay.”

“Are you?”

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?”

“Probably,” he says, and almost means it.

 

-

 

Monday evening he gets a call from an unknown number, and he answers it, despite half expecting it to be some stupid fucking guy making fun of him.

Instead, it’s Jungwoo. “Hi baby, I’m on campus but I don’t know which dorm is yours. Can you come and find me please?”

“What’re you doing here?”

“We all missed you at Kun’s yesterday,” Jungwoo says, so earnest and sweet that Donghyuck has to scrunch up his face against the tears that threaten to fall. “So I’ve brought you some cookies.”

“Me too!” another voice calls, less affectionate, more... Ten.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says.

“But we’ve come anyway, and I’m not going to leave without seeing you whole and healthy with my own two eyes,” Jungwoo says, sweet enough that the threat carries truly terrifying connotations.

“Okay,” Donghyuck says weakly, stepping into his shoes, “Can you describe your surroundings?”

 

-

 

They go to a cafe on campus because Jungwoo insists that Donghyuck leave his dorm for more than five minutes. He takes a long time to explain what had happened, but Jungwoo and Ten both sit in silence and listen until he’s finished.

Once he’s done, Ten stands and picks his phone off the table. “I’ve gotta make a call, have you got this Jungwoo?”

“Sure sweetie, go make your call.”

Ten leaves the cafe, barging straight through a group of guys queuing, uncaring of his own lack of height. Whatever his expression, it's enough to make the guys cower, which makes Donghyuck laugh a little.

“You’re a lot like Ten was at your age,” Jungwoo says, putting his hand so softly over Donghyuck’s on the table, squeezing lightly. “Except Ten was much worse than you. I can’t count the number of fights he caused while he attended college, I really can’t. He had to speak to the Dean more than once.”

“Damn, I’ve never met the Dean. Guess I’ll have to try harder.”

Jungwoo laughs, but his eyes are still serious. “Don’t aim to be like that. It isn’t a good place to be, where you’re so angry at the world that you’re willing to destroy yourself.”

“What helped Ten?”

“Johnny. Friends too, and a support system that held him down when he wanted to spring up and fight. The world can be a horrific place when you’re different, and people in the LGBT community know that better than most, but if you let that sadness seep into your soul you’re going to waste your life. It’s so much more important that you try and make yourself happy instead of proving something to the world, Donghyuck.”

His eyes burn again. “Well, I don’t have a Johnny to come and save me.”

“When did I say Johnny saved Ten? The only person that saved him was himself. The only person that can save you is you. But Donghyuck, you’re not alone. You aren’t fighting on your own, no matter how it feels.”

“Thanks,” he says, voice rough. He squeezes Jungwoo’s hand back. “But I’m not fighting at all anymore.”

“Because of Mark?”

“Because I can deal with people hating me,” he says, “But I don’t want them to hate Mark.”

“You think it’s better for them to hate you than him? You think that’s how it works?” Ten asks from behind him, stood there with his phone clutched tightly in one hand. “Sorry kid, but homophobia doesn’t work like that. They hate everyone that’s different, not just the one that takes up the title of martyr.”

“But Mark isn’t gay,” Donghyuck says. “I kissed him. They saw it and it isn’t his fault – he doesn’t deserve the backlash.”

“Neither do you,” Ten says. “No one does. That’s the point, that’s what we’re all fighting for. The right to kiss who we want, love who we want, spend our lives with who we want, who we chose. Whether Mark is gay or straight or what the fuck ever he decides to be, if he isn’t willing to fight alongside you, he isn’t a friend. He isn’t someone you should care about, and he isn’t someone whose feelings you should spare.”

“Easy for you to say, _again,”_ Donghyuck spits. “In you come with your sage fucking advice like you give a shit about me or what my life is like.”

Ten sits down heavily onto his seat and finishes the rest of his black coffee. “It’s like looking at an annoying mirror,” he mumbles, more to himself than anyone else. Then, louder, he says, “It took me years to look past my own nose at what was already staring me in the face, Donghyuck. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did, because it fucking sucked, and even you don’t deserve the misery of it. Speak to Mark.”

“You speak to Mark,” he says petulantly, just to annoy Ten further.

“I did.”

Donghyuck blinks. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be, sarcastic little shit,” Ten says. “He was with Johnny; I just spoke to him on the phone. Kind of an asshole move for you to let him have his sexuality crisis alone, if you ask me, not that you did ask me. As far as I know, he just checked all the videos his friends sent him, and he’s currently running back to campus to either find you or to kill his teammates.”

“What?” Donghyuck whispers. “What did you _do,_ Ten?”

“I interfered, like always,” Ten says, smiling slightly. “Thank me later, for now you should probably go stop your boyfriend from committing murder.”

“He’s not my _boyfriend-“_

“Yet.”

Donghyuck looks to Jungwoo helplessly, who just shrugs. “There’s no time like the present, I guess.”

With little choice, he sprints out of the cafe, ringing Jaemin, who doesn’t pick up, he rings Renjun, who must have his phone off, and then Jeno, who picks up after the second ring. “Howdy partner.”

“Dude do you know where Mark is? Have you seen him?”

“Yeah, just passed him actually, he was on his way to the gym-“

“Stop him Jeno, don’t let him go into the gym!”

Jeno panics immediately. “Oh god okay! What the hell? I’m running, what’s going on?”

“He’s gonna make a mistake, don’t let him go inside!” Donghyuck hangs up and runs across the campus, darting past classmates and strangers, people that know him, people that don’t. None of it matters other than making sure Mark doesn’t fuck up.

Jeno rings him. “I can’t find him anywhere; I think he’s already inside!”

Donghyuck approaches the building and can see Jeno pacing outside. “Fuck,” he breathes, lungs upset, heart trembling. “Fuck.”

Jeno pockets his phone and catches Donghyuck, shaking him. “The fuck is going on!”

Mark leaves the gym in his basketball shorts and an old Rick and Morty shirt, hair mused, expression sour until he sees Jeno shaking Donghyuck, and then he laughs. “What the hell are you guys doing?”

“What did you do?” Donghyuck breathes, staring at Mark.

“I quit.”

“Quit?” Jeno asks, mystified, still holding Donghyuck’s shoulders. “Quit what? Smoking? You don’t smoke.”

“I quit the basketball team.”

Jeno’s eyes widen impossibly. “Oh my god. Why?”

“Has Jaemin still not told you?”

“Is this about Saturday?” Jeno asks. “All he said is that he’ll tell me when I’m older.”

“You’re nineteen, jackass.”

“I’m sensitive!” Jeno defends, raising his hands. He looks at Donghyuck. “Is this gonna be a private thing? Should I go?”

“I can ring you later. Ask Jaemin what happened and he’ll tell you.”

“Okay. Catch you guys later. Glad you stopped smoking, Mark.”

Mark opens his mouth, but closes it again. Correcting Jeno is apparently not worth the effort. He turns to Donghyuck instead, with tired eyes. “Are you okay?”

“What do you mean am I okay?” Donghyuck hisses, smacking Mark around the back of his head. “Why the hell did you quit the basketball team, idiot? You’re their ace player! You love the sport!”

“You... you honestly think I’d stay after what they said to you?”

“That’s not about you,” Donghyuck says. “This isn’t about them. This is about basketball, and how happy it makes you. I don’t – I don’t want to take that from you.”

“Yeah, basketball makes me happy,” Mark says, frowning. “But it’s just a sport. You’re my best friend. You make me happy. I value your happiness more than winning a stupid game on a team full of assholes.”

“You shouldn’t,” he says. “You should put yourself first.”

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m quitting because seeing you unhappy makes me unhappy.”

“You’re so stupid, Mark.”

“Yeah, but you’re stupid too,” Mark says, scratching the back of his head. “So anyway. Uh. About the kiss.”

It’s his chance.

Maybe the only chance he’ll ever get.

No take backs, no regrets.

“About it,” Donghyuck says. “You know that every single time I’ve told you I love you I meant that I’m like, painfully in love with you, right?”

Mark opens his mouth and closes it so hard his teeth clack together. “Uh...” he clears his throat, expression pinching as his cheeks redden. “I mean... I didn’t. I guess I know now though. Did you know that I kind of avoid any physical contact because I’ve had a weird crush on you for like... a year?”

What?

What the _fuck?_

“What?” Donghyuck whispers. “What? Are you joking?”

Mark laughs nervously. “Aha, not really. I just thought it was like a... bro thing, to be honest. But we kissed, and uh. It’s definitely not a bro thing.”

“So – what?” Donghyuck asks, unseeing. “You’re gay? Bi? Helplessly confused?”

“Bi, I guess,” Mark says. “Maybe pan. I talked to Johnny about it and he said it’s totally normal to like more girls than guys, which helped, considering you’re the only guy I’ve ever liked.”

“I am?” Donghyuck asks. “You’re not... this isn’t a joke? You’re not making fun of me?”

“For once in my life, I promise I’m not making fun of you,” Mark says. He punches Donghyuck’s shoulder. “But, uh. I’m not so good at the PDA thing. If you haven’t already guessed.”

“I’m so confused,” Donghyuck says, torn. “What do you want?”

“To date, I guess. I...” Mark winces. “I definitely love you, Hyuck, but I don’t know if I’m _in_ love with you. I kind of haven’t ever let myself consider it.”

“Okay,” he says faintly, overwhelmed. “You. You wanna date. Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he says again. “Me? Definitely me?”

“Yeah, idiot. Stop embarrassing me.”

“But-“ he just feels lost. “I don’t get it. What about all your friends on the team?”

“They’re not friends if they say shit about you while I’m not there.”

“I don’t wanna be the reason you gave up something you love.”

Mark smacks him. “You’re not. I made that choice. I’m choosing to date you, too. If you want.”

“Sure,” he says, barely audible, unthinking, completely at a loss. “Wanna go back to your dorm and make out?”

Mark goes pink. “Kind of, yeah.”

So they do.

Donghyuck walks beside Mark, uncomprehending. Mark doesn't hold his hand, but that’s okay. He probably wouldn’t feel it anyway.

It’s odd, because he spends the first couple of minutes waiting for fireworks and then despairing when they don’t arrive.

They get to Mark’s dorm room, clamber onto the bed, and Donghyuck shoves Mark down and kisses him to within an inch of his life. It’s daylight, and Mark cans see who he’s kissing. It’s definitely a dude. It’s definitely Donghyuck. There’s no denying it, and there’s no denying that Mark definitely kisses him back.

Donghyuck shifts slightly, dragging his wet mouth across Mark’s cheek, and then he feels – “Dude have you seriously got a boner from kissing? _Mark!”_

Mark shoves him off the bed, purple in the face, hiding his head in the pillow. “Leave me alone, Hyuck!”

He can’t help but laugh, open and honest, and this isn’t fireworks, but – it’s happiness. He feels whole. He knows that this closeness with Mark is what’s making him happy. Even if they decide no more kissing, no more dating, this closeness with Mark is never going away. He knows that now. Mark really does love him, platonic or otherwise. “You’re such a virgin.”

Mark’s blush deepens further, and Donghyuck’s laughter pauses in his throat. “Wait. Are you actually? Mark? Are you a virgin?”

“Aren’t you one too?”

 _“No!”_ Donghyuck screeches. “You’re actually a virgin?”

“Why are you such a slut?”

“I’m not a slut!” He launches himself at Mark, and not for the first time, maybe the hundredth, maybe the thousandth, it dissolves into aimless tickling. Only, this time there’s kissing.

And Mark’s boner.

But mainly kissing.

Maybe the fireworks have always been there, and he's grown used to them. Maybe they just feel like happiness.

 

-

 

He goes to a bar, is approached by a random girl.

“You’re gay, right?” she asks.

Donghyuck nods. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Mark stumbles over, steals Donghyuck’s drink, then punches him on the arm. “Don’t be rude, dickwad.” He kisses his cheek and heads towards Sicheng, saving him from being hit on by like five different people at once.

Donghyuck watches him go fondly. “I’m gay and that’s my boyfriend.”

“Shit, really? Mark Lee is gay?”

“He’s whatever he is.” Donghyuck says. “Nice to meet you, I guess.” He heads off towards Mark and Sicheng, burrowing between the press of bodies to force himself between Sicheng and the crowd. “You okay?”

He nods, but his eyes are pained. “I remember why I don’t go clubbing without Yuta anymore.”

Mark laughs and removes Donghyuck’s stretched hat from his own head, covering Sicheng’s hair and pulling the front down. “Run for it in your new disguise, dude.”

“Thank you,” Sicheng says, smiling slightly. “Thanks guys. Have a good night.”

“You too,” Donghyuck says, but Sicheng has already faded back into the crowd. Now hatless, Mark passes Donghyuck back his glass, completely void of his drink. “Asshole. Buy me another drink.”

“Make me.”

“No kissing for a week.”

Mark giggles. “You’re way too needy for that.”

He pouts. “Yeah. I don’t know, just buy me another drink!”

“Mark!” an unfamiliar voice shouts. “Dude, it’s been ages, come hang with us!”

Mark waves the group off, smiling. “Sorry guys, but I’m with my boyfriend.”

_Boyfriend._

It’s one thing for Donghyuck to say it, but to hear it from Mark’s mouth sends him into another plain of bliss.

Mark snorts at his expression. “You look like an idiot.”

“You look ugly.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

Not that much has changed, and Donghyuck doubts it ever will. They’ve always been like this. He’s always looked at Mark like this.

Only now, when he smiles, when he tugs on Mark’s hand and asks to leave, Mark is looking at him too.

When they go back to the dorm and press against each other, it isn’t back to back, it’s chest to chest, too close to be comfortable, but too comforting to make them move.

When he says, sleepy and warm, “I love you,” Mark opens his eyes and smiles.

“I love you too.”

It isn’t happily ever after, because Mark is no prince, even after true love’s kiss.

But Donghyuck happens to prefer his frog in shining armor, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/Comments/Bookmarks sustain me hehe!
> 
> Lots of love to you all! Happy pride month! xo


End file.
